


simple

by daisuga



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Roadtrip, Romance, the imprints of our hands will merge, vernon and seungkwan and their relationship as their country language and religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisuga/pseuds/daisuga
Summary: He smells of tangerines and distant flowers and he imagines, for a second, telling Seungkwan,Let’s get married. Let’s live here someday and spend the rest of our lives together. And we’ll adopt all the cats and dogs and children you want. And I’ll let you live your life, as long as I get to live my life with you in it.Vernon meets Seungkwan's family in Jeju, take two.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 147





	simple

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to my soulmate for proofreading this.
> 
> this is one of my favorite works. (belated) happy, happy birthday to you, nonie! may you always have happiness and courage. always stay golden.
> 
> [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dakA3K65IcKZs26WETnvj?si=XMZQWwOZQhCjFIXE0oC06A)

The last time Vernon went to Jeju, it was with Seungkwan, two years ago.

It was a trip they planned for a year. He still remembers how he sleepily ploughed through the meal Seungkwan’s mom prepared for them—he grits his teeth and cringes as he remembers how he called her _grandmother_ , and Seungkwan nudges him.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungkwan has that pout on his lips, and Vernon immediately wipes the grimace off his face. “We just got here and you’re already grim.”

“No, I was just remembering.”

“Remembering what?”

Vernon gives in and recounts the memory, and Seungkwan laughs. Sometimes, Seungkwan laughs _so_ hard _even_ when Vernon is confident that what he’s saying isn’t _that_ funny. And, telling him a memory that he already knows _isn’t_ really that funny, but Seungkwan laughs at the recollection, anyway—face scrunched up, corner of his eyes wrinkled, cheekbones rising so _honestly_ —and Vernon just thinks: _Well, I really love him_.

Seungkwan covers his mouth as he grins at the memory, other hand holding his coffee while his handbag is so delicately hanging off of his pinky and ring finger. His hair is so damn bright under the Jeju sun, the blonde reminding Vernon how much Seungkwan just blinds him on a daily basis. He has a simple shirt tucked in his simple jeans, paired with his simple shoes, and it’s everything he already saw in their years of being together, but Vernon still finds himself staring, anyway, because Seungkwan is the most stunning in his simplicity. It’s why Seungkwan so easily wiggled himself in his life and made a rapidly growing settlement in it, and eventually, without his knowledge, Vernon is suddenly a country with Seungkwan as his capital.

“Stop staring,” Seungkwan says, biting his bottom lip to stop the flustered grin threatening to burst through. He’s trying to hide it. But Vernon knows him well enough.

“No,” Vernon says, and dips down to kiss him.

* * *

Jinseol and Sojeong dote on him as much as they dote on Seungkwan, and it calms his nerves. The last time he went to Jeju was two years ago, and Seungkwan’s mom didn’t know they were together, then.

But she does _now_ , and while it’s silly—so stupid, really, because she has known him since he was fifteen—Vernon is still a little bit nervous. They’ve talked plenty over the phone, Seungkwan affectionately calling her— _Eomma, how are you? I miss you. Mhm, I’m with Hansol right now_ —but this is the first time he’s meeting her while she truly knows he’s with Seungkwan.

 _Don’t be so nervous_ , Sojeong said in the car, _It’s just mom_.

The house hasn’t changed at all; it’s still the same cozy home Seungkwan holds close to his heart, and Vernon holds it close to his own, too. He helps carry their souvenirs from Seoul into the house, and Seungkwan whines in his cute baby talk as he hugs his mom.

Vernon shuffles to the side and smiles. Seungkwan is going to cry, he knows, but he’s trying hard not to. His mother visited him during his birthday, but Vernon knows that time was short and Seungkwan had been itching to go to Jeju for a long while. It’s why Vernon told him _'Let's go to Jeju’_. He said it so nonchalantly in the practice room, a few days after his own birthday, that Seungkwan had a whiplash.

_Why?_

He shrugged, then. _Why not?_

Seungkwan’s mother is so small. Seems so fragile, but Vernon knows Seungkwan takes so much after her, and that means she’s one of the strongest people Vernon could ever have the luck of meeting. He feels an endless amount of gratitude to her, and for the part of her heart that she entrusted to be the foundation of Seungkwan’s.

He watches them hug and banter and he’s glad, really, that they went here. Jeju is so far, and Seungkwan often tags along with Vernon whenever they get to come home, instead of trying to fly home. And while Sofia and his mother get along so well with him, Vernon knows—knows the wistful smile he has when he watches Vernon’s mother—and he wants to give Seungkwan the same emotion of watching the love of your life meld into your family like it’s always meant to be that way. Like there’s always this piece that so perfectly fits the puzzle you didn’t even know was unfinished.

“Hansol?”

He snaps out of his thoughts, eyes blinking, looking at Seungkwan and his mother. “Yes?”

She gestures to him to give her a hug, and he does, and it feels like home. He has to bend down and his arms completely engulf her, and in a way, it feels a lot like hugging Seungkwan, and maybe it was—this is the other half of Seungkwan's heart, in his arms. And maybe that’s why it feels like home; they are two halves of the same thing, and there’s a slight feeling of connection when he feels that strength in him. She pats his back like he’s a child. He feels like one, but it’s not bad.

“Welcome home,” She says as they break apart, and Seungkwan links his arm with Vernon’s easily.

* * *

When Seungkwan met Vernon’s family, he had been so nervous and neurotic that he just blurted out a _Thank you for letting me take care of Hansollie_ , out of nowhere and full of emotions.

Everyone laughed so hard, back then, and Vernon could still remember how hard he squeezed Seungkwan in his arms, grinning so hard that he thought his face might split, letting Seungkwan and his red ears hide in his hold. He remembered how he nearly fucking cried, standing in the living room door, watching Seungkwan engage his mother in a stilted conversation in English, confident and genuine and everything he ever love about Seungkwan, phone with a translation app in his hands.

My mom cooks this a lot. _Really?_ Yes. I miss her.

His mother gave Seungkwan the softest smile, and Vernon had to look away, his heart beating too fast in his chest to even try to think.

Sofia gossiped with Seungkwan so comfortably, and Seungkwan with the experience of two older sisters got along well with her— _too well_ , Vernon fondly sulked, watching them giggle over his baby pictures—and it was the first two nails in the coffin, Vernon thought. The last one came a month later, with Seungkwan engaging his father in a very passionate and important debate about which Wonder Girls song is the best and how important they are to KPOP.

He wakes up with Seungkwan in arms, in Seungkwan’s childhood room, Jeju mornings making him feel like he stepped into a dream. The early morning light streams in strips through Seungkwan’s curtain, the wind blowing it ever so slightly. They left the window open last night, before going to bed, and Vernon squints and looks out at the pastel skies, dawn barely breaking.

He gently slips out of the bed, tucking Seungkwan in. He stares at him for a little bit, tenderly pushing his hair back. Seungkwan always sleeps so peacefully, so well. He thinks of the times Seungkwan laid on his lap, and he let his fingers trace his nose and cheeks and his eyelashes, always so in awe with how his cheekbones always reflected the light perfectly. Vernon thinks that he ought to tell Seungkwan more of these things. He leaves a kiss on his forehead, before quietly going out of the room, his phone telling him that it’s four in the morning.

He quietly maneuvers along the wooden floors, letting the comfortable, sleepy atmosphere take over his psyche. He stops when he sees Seungkwan’s mother on the veranda, a basket of tangerines next to her, and the peeled skin in another bowl. She looks at him and pats at the wooden floor, inviting him to sit over, so he does. The veranda overlooks the garden, and she wordlessly gives him a tangerine. His feet touch the ground and he looks out into the dawn breaking.

He imagines Seungkwan as a child, sitting exactly where he is. He didn’t know him then—but sometimes, Vernon feels like he does. Like he grew up with Seungkwan in Jeju, like he was there when Seungkwan first went to Seoul and rode the bullet train for the first time.

 _You’re my soulmate_ , Seungkwan said before, _my person_.

He doesn’t say it out loud; doesn’t feel the need to, if he were to be honest, when Seungkwan just has the uncanny skill of snatching the words out of his mouth, but he believes it, too. Sometimes, people meet people, and while they get married and settled, they’re not _their person_ , and that’s why people leave. When they were fifteen, Seungkwan held his hand, and Vernon didn’t know what to do except to hold his, too. Even now, he still feels that way. Feels the thought that Seungkwan is his person, and even if there might be even a tiny smidgen of possibility that Seungkwan doesn’t think the same, Vernon thinks he _will_ still very well devote his entire life to him.

He imagines saying these things to Seungkwan. _I’m going to die miserable if I never met you_ , he will say, _because you’re my person and I’ll never settle for anything else._ _I want to make you happy._ And Seungkwan will grit his teeth to stop the grin, ears and cheeks red, eyes watery, because he always cries so easily. And he will say, _You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot for suddenly saying these things, Hansol, what am I going to do with you?_

The tangerine slice bursts in his mouth as he chews on it, and Seungkwan’s mother smiles at him knowingly. Like she knows what he’s here for, even if Vernon is still trying to grasp his last remaining thoughts. But it’s also a patient smile, a familiar smile—a smile that has afterimages of it, everything Vernon has spent almost all his life trying to memorize.

She says, “This is nice, isn’t it?”

The sun is steadily rising. In an hour, Seungkwan will wake up, and a sudden feeling presses down Vernon’s chest, the urge to cry overwhelming as he sees the Jeju skies illuminate the tiny space of home he had sat himself down on. His fingers are sticky, and the wind brushes by his cheeks. He smells of tangerines and distant flowers and he imagines, for a second, telling Seungkwan, _Let’s get married. Let’s live here someday and spend the rest of our lives together. And we’ll adopt all the cats and dogs and children you want. And I’ll let you live your life, as long as I get to live my life with you in it._

Vernon swallows down. “It really is, _eomma_.”

* * *

They rent a car, and Seungkwan’s mother packs them lunch as she sends them away. While Vernon was making sure their things are settled in the backseat, he spies her giving Seungkwan a small parcel of tangerines and aralia shoots, and Seungkwan making a face slightly at what she had to say.

He takes it with him, on the front seat, and Vernon waits for him to buckle up, mounting his phone on the front and fixing the navigation. He drives Seungkwan around a lot—he bites his cheek to stop the laugh threatening to bubble out of him, remembering Seungkwan’s failed driving test. Failed driving _tests_. He never drove them around Jeju, though, and Seungkwan hasn't had that experience either, so in a way, this is completely new to them.

“Looks like it’s going to take us two hours to get there.”

“I know,” Seungkwan hums, “Is that okay with you?”

“It has to be, or else no one else will drive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You guess.”

“You’re so mean to me sometimes, you know that?”

He grins and leans over to Seungkwan to kiss the playful glare away, ignoring his scoff as he adjusts the rearview mirror once and starts pulling away from the house. It’s not that bad. Three hours of driving isn’t as bad as what they’ve done for TTT, and Seungkwan immediately takes over the AUX, so Vernon relaxes as Seungkwan sings along to the songs playing in the background.

Seungkwan tells him of what he remembers in his younger days at Jeju, and Vernon knows some of them—he listens to everything Seungkwan says, even if it doesn’t look like it. Countless times, people have mistaken it as a one-sided conversation— _You should talk too, Vernonie_ —as if it’s not him who’s encouraging Seungkwan to talk more. He likes to just wave his hand nonchalantly, with a small smile on his lips and a shake of his head. He’s happy that way, and Seungkwan is more than aware of it.

Not without trial and error, though. When they were still teenagers, Seungkwan got insecure more times than he could count; frowning at his silence, licking his lips and lowering his eyes and saying _Am I boring you?_ while forcing out a smile. But they learned each other’s languages, and in turn, spoke it fluently—one of the things their relationship can show for, and one of the things Vernon can say he’s truly proud of. He’ll never get this with anyone else: the quiet, confident knowledge that this person knows you, from the crook of your knees to the underside of your tongue. From the heart-shaped birthmark on his hand to the scar on his left eyebrow.

There’s something comforting about just sitting next to Seungkwan after his long, tiring days, and letting Seungkwan talk about things without expecting things in return, dainty fingers playing with Vernon’s hair.

“I can’t believe mom asked me to give this,” Seungkwan sighs, picking at the tangerines and the shoots. “It’s been so long.”

“You think your dad will like it?”

“Who knows.”

They didn’t visit Seungkwan’s dad two years ago the last time they were here. Vernon doesn't see him much, actually. Only twice, and Seungkwan has been frank about how awkward his relationship with his father is, so Vernon doesn’t push it. They're driving to him now, though, because—Vernon doesn’t know why, but maybe it’s part of Seungkwan’s New Year’s resolution. Vernon will support him in anything, so here he is. Driving Seungkwan to his father whom he barely even talks to.

Vernon rolls down the window, the wind strong and cutting, but it’s nice. It’s calming, and he remembers of a particular drive he took one night, while Seungkwan was out on a personal schedule. Outside the car, unfamiliar towns and scenery passes by, and it’s an unusually empty road as they zoom past the highway.

“Do you hate him?”

“Who? My dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Not really,” Seungkwan says. “He chose his life and that’s that. And if that’s what he wanted then who am I to hate him for it?”

Vernon bites the inside of his cheek, but the question slips before he could ruminate on it more: “Did your mom hate him?”

They have to stop at a toll gate, and Vernon steals a look at Seungkwan. The wind is ruffling his blonde hair, facing one-third away as he rests his chin on his folded arms atop the door, a hand slightly extending out of the window, palm up. He can see the apple of his cheeks, the way his eyelashes fan down as he looks at the tiny beam of sunlight on the palm of his hand. He’s turning it—left, right—with what Vernon guesses as wonder in his eyes.

He looks at Seungkwan for as long as he could, keeping this image in his mind, tucking it in with at least a million more other moments that he has of Seungkwan. Sometimes Vernon thinks that when he dies, he’d take all these with him, and try to plead with whatever deity he meets so that he could keep them. The want to hold Seungkwan’s hands, simply because they have hands. The want to be with Seungkwan, simply because Seungkwan is his person. He wants to keep all of it, even in his next life, and when he reincarnates, he’d remember everything. And he’ll think, _I was so lucky_. He’ll think, _I want that all over again._ Because that’s what you want in life. To find that one person because they’re _there_. Because they’re yours.

“Maybe,” Seungkwan says, looking back at Vernon and smiling at him so sweetly that it hurts.

* * *

_This is all I can give you_ , Vernon said, when they got together. _Because we’re idols and I can only love you as hard as I’m allowed to. Is that okay?_

And Seungkwan said: _if we do this, we can't take it back. I’m never going to be the same if I lose you. This has to be for forever. I love you that much. Can you promise that?_

It’s stupid—that’s what Jihoon said—they’re stupid. Idols don’t know what _peace_ means. They don’t have the luxury of getting to know the meaning of that word, and definitely not living it. Not until you’ve run your course. But Vernon feels it all the time; feels it when they come home and the lights are off and Seungkwan crawls on the bed, curling up to his side. Feels it when Seungkwan covers his mouth and looks at Vernon knowingly, whenever their inside jokes manifest during a filming.

Vernon thinks that maybe he underestimates his own love, sometimes. Seungkwan has a way of doing that—making Vernon love him harder, do things he never really thought he would. He doesn’t know how they expect Vernon to look away when Seungkwan is always so vibrant, and Vernon feels a sense of kinship towards moths flocking to a flame.

Turns out “ _I can only love you as hard as I’m allowed to”_ translates to “ _My youth has been devoted to you, and so will be the rest of my life”_. Turns out “ _This is all I can give you”_ translates to “ _I’ll die before something happens to us”._

When they got together, the CEO called them up individually, and Vernon—he was _seventeen_ , so small compared to how he is now, but that meant Seungkwan was even _smaller_ —met him with no fear in his system. Seungcheol told him to keep his chin up and his eyes determined.

 _Show him you love him_.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” was all the CEO said, “You know how hard it would be on him if you mess this up, right?”

Vernon knows, and Vernon accepted it with no hesitation. He was dismissed without any other extra baggage, but there was a fire that ignited within him just before his hand touched the doorknob— a small seed that eventually grew into the need to protect Seungkwan the same way Seungkwan had always protected him. The need to give Seungkwan the life he wanted; the romance, the freedom, _family_.

He turned at the last moment, and the CEO looked at him in surprise.

“Someday,” Vernon said, “I’ll take him far away from here.”

The CEO looked at him long and hard, opening his mouth then closing it, and Vernon wondered if he overstepped the line, and wondered even more when he didn’t feel fear. _That’s what you turned me into_ , he said to Seungkwan years later, _you made me fearless_.

“Try your hardest,” The CEO gave him a bittersweet smile, and said, “Someday, I hope you do.”

Someday. They’re twenty-four, now, years away from seventeen, when they first made it official. Vernon reaches his free hand over, and Seungkwan is already there—he grasps Vernon’s hand and intertwines their fingers together. Vernon can’t help the smile that twitched its way into his lips.

He wonders how long until that _someday_ comes. Wonders even more when he feels the readiness thrumming in his veins, shaking his bones.

* * *

Seungkwan’s dad is gentle.

Vernon thinks of how both of Seungkwan’s parents are quiet, holding Seungkwan in a way that makes him think that Seungkwan is porcelain. Maybe it’s a silent request to the world: _Take care of him. He has so much love to give._

He lives near the rail bike he works at, his apartment small and just enough for one person. On the walls are pictures of him with his children— old, the edges folded and stained, like they went through hell to be kept.

“And this is Hansol,” Seungkwan says, pulling him over next to him. “My boyfriend.”

“Hello, nice to meet you.”

Vernon takes his hand and shakes it, and Seungkwan’s father just says, “Thank you for looking after my son.”

Seungkwan makes an affronted face and exclaims, “ _I’m_ the one who looks after him!”

It’s banter— they all know it, because they laugh and joke around and the awkwardness dissipates. He makes both of them coffee as they eat the packed lunch Seungkwan’s mother made for them. Seungkwan doesn’t tell him that she cooked it, but Vernon can see just from the expression he makes as he takes a bite that he knows.

Seungkwan likes to call both of them brave. Both of their parents married, and split, and Seungkwan thinks that they’re both brave for even believing in love. Vernon knows what he means; knows that they’re from people who thought they had their person, but turns out they’re wrong, years later. _It’s still love_ , his mom told him, _we still loved each other_.

But sometimes Vernon looks at Seungkwan and thinks, _Mom, if you only knew. Love— it’s so different._ Like the word _love_ is insufficient. Like he has to excuse himself for the poverty of his words whenever he has to describe Seungkwan and what he means to him. Most times, he does.

“You should come by again next time,” His father says, “Maybe with Jinseol and Sojeong.”

“I’ll ask,” Seungkwan promises, and Vernon knows he means it.

Vernon takes their pictures—and also takes a picture with them. He holds the phones, because he’s the tallest, and he takes the selfie. For some reason, it made him feel a lot of things within him. Seungkwan smiles in such a soft way, arms linked with both his father and Vernon, squeezed between the two of them. Later, Seungkwan will say that it’s the first picture they took in a year and a half.

He gives them snacks before they drive back home, and while Vernon rearranges their things, Seungkwan gives the package to his dad.

“Mom wanted to give this, by the way.”

“Oh,” He says, then quietly, “Thank you.”

Excessive love and kindness runs in the family, Vernon thinks. He sends them back with a pack of coffee beans.

* * *

About halfway back to the house, they make a detour off the road. They stand over a cliffside, overlooking the seaside, waves crashing violently against the rocks.

It’s about to be evening, and Seungkwan wanted to see the sunset over the coast. Vernon wouldn’t deny him that— it’s hard to deny Seungkwan of anything— so he sat down next to him, arms wrapping around his midsection and head resting on the crook of Seungkwan’s neck.

“It’s so nice here,” Seungkwan says, hands outstretched. “It would be nice to have a house near a beach, just a walk away from the coastline. And there would be a huge balcony you can open, and every day you can smell the ocean air.”

Vernon can imagine it so vividly— so clearly that it hurts. He never thought of himself to be this type; sure, he loves his family, but the thought always ended there. While he was a trainee, he already made sure he knew his limits, knew the extent of things he could want and have. But Seungkwan— as always— it’s different.

“It would be pretty,” He agrees, eyes looking over the pink skies, the sun going down the horizon slowly, so perfectly in sight. “A bungalow, with a veranda, and a garden. And Leo and Bookkeu can finally play together, and when we get married— “

Seungkwan stiffens, “When we get married?”

It takes a second before Vernon realizes what he just said, straightening up and looking at Seungkwan. He— it’s a feat, he guesses, having _the_ Boo Seungkwan look this aghast. His mouth is parted in shock, and Vernon struggles to continue, because, _oh my fucking god_ , he thinks. He didn’t mean to. He really didn’t mean to, but he _means it_. And that’s why he can’t deny it, because not a bone in his body can even think of lying to Seungkwan.

“When we get married,” Vernon says carefully, nodding slowly as he enunciates the words, Seungkwan mirroring his actions in a state of shock. “...Yeah. When we get married.”

“When we— “ Seungkwan gasps sharply, “Chwe Hansol, are you _proposing_ right now?”

Is he? Vernon has to make a lot of hard choices in his whole life. Leaving his family to be a trainee, having to be an idol, surrendering a massive chunk of privacy. They’re all decisions he made with a heavy heart. But this, as unexpected and unplanned as he is, is easy. He looks at Seungkwan— eyes wide, hair disheveled by the wind, the sunset highlighting his face. It’s always easy, with Seungkwan, because it’s him.

“Yeah,” Vernon chokes out, the embarrassment creeping in at how he just absolutely blurted out his proposal. “Yeah, I— if you want to?”

“You’re so stupid. I’m going to be married to an _idiot_ ,” Seungkwan wails, crying out as his hands grip on Vernon’s arm. “You don’t even have a _ring_.”

“I. I have my Seventeen ring, if you want,” Seungkwan is crying, but he’s also sobbing out a laughter, and Vernon couldn’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him, too. It’s not until he sniffed that he realized he’s crying, too. “You could put it on top of _your_ Seventeen ring.”

“ _Stop_. Stop laughing,” Seungkwan whines, but his grin is so unmistakably big, hiding his wet face under Vernon’s chin. “You’re so bad. I hate you. But that’s a lie. I love you. _I’m going to marry you_. Oh my god.”

It’s so unromantic, Minghao is going to whoop his ass once they come back to Seoul. But it’s _them_ , and it’s so painful, this happiness that rips through Vernon’s body and soul, like maybe this is how it’s always meant to happen. A lot of things with Seungkwan go like that. Like they’re just meant to be. He wants to say, _I’ll buy you any ring you want. We’ll build a house by the ocean and you’ll be able to sing your heart out to it every morning like how you’ve always wanted._

But that can wait. And, honestly, maybe Seungkwan already knows it. He knows everything, at this point, and nothing in Vernon can be hidden. Seungkwan reads him— _him_ , over and under and between the lines, _all of him_.

So, he kisses Seungkwan’s temple, and simply says _I love you._

* * *

Seungkwan’s sisters squealed so loudly when they got home and told them the news. His mom— after the moment at the veranda, it seems like she saw it coming, but the tears came out nonetheless as she hugged Seungkwan and Vernon so hard, barely able to curl around both of them, but they made themselves smaller to fit in the hold as much as they could, giggling when their faces bumped against each other.

“You should invite your parents and your sister here, Hansol,” Seungkwan’s mom says over dinner, “We’re family now, after all.”

“Oh, Sofia is so cute,” Jinseoul coos, “We met before. She’s the one who handles their cats’ Instagram account.”

“You have cats?”

“Yeah,” Vernon laughs, flustered, “Um, here.”

They talk about Leo, and Jazz, and Sofia, and his parents; and Seungkwan’s hand holds his the whole time. It feels like the imprint of their hands will merge, the same way their lives will merge even harder, from now on. The thought of it fills Vernon’s guts with butterflies. A million of them. He thinks the first butterfly that ever lived in his stomach was when he first met Seungkwan.

After dinner, Seungkwan leaves to wash up, and everyone starts getting ready to call it a night. Vernon helps Sojeong with the dishes, and after they dry up, he slips into the veranda, seeing Seungkwan’s mother sitting down on it again. A cup of coffee is next to her, this time, no tangerines in sight.

He sits next to her. The evening is quiet and dark, and the stars are more visible here than in Seoul.

“We used to cry a lot,” She starts, “And we barely see each other even now. And I worry a lot about him, even when I know he’s grown up now, and he’s so good at taking care of other people, isn’t he?”

A fond smile appears on Vernon’s lips. “He is.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not good at taking care of himself. I know he’s healthy but— you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Of course, he does. He knows. Ever since he was fifteen, when Seungkwan first held his hand.

“I do,” He replies, looking at her.

Seungcheol’s words echo in his mind— _Show him you love him_ —and it was just supposed to be for that one meeting when he was seventeen, when they first got together, but it replays in his mind so frequently that Vernon doesn’t know how to undo it. Every part of him thrums with that love, built and rebuilt and shown over and over again in different ways over the years. There’s no off button for this thing, Vernon found out, no way to stop it.

She looks at him, and she smiles.

* * *

“You know,” Seungkwan starts, wiggling in his arms, “I’ve been planning out my wedding since I was a kid?”

Vernon pulls him closer, humming. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanted a wedding here, in Jeju,” Seungkwan recounts, “And it will be blue and white, and mom would wear a pretty dress, and there would be lanterns at night.”

“We can do that.”

A giddy smile spreads on both of their faces, giggling a bit as they push their cheeks against each other, before it softens into something quieter, something more sacred. Seungkwan is so warm in his arms, every slope and edges perfectly fit that way. He brings up Seungkwan’s hand, the one without the Seventeen ring, and his thumb caresses the base of it.

“I’ll get you a ring when we get back to Seoul,” He murmurs, “And then let’s tell the members. And the CEO, I guess.”

Seungkwan laughs at the distaste in Vernon’s voice in the last part. They settle into a shared silence, Vernon kissing the crown of his head, feeling Seungkwan’s breathing pattern match his, staring up at the ceiling as the euphoria descends in a slow trickle, humbling his emotions.

They’re idols, and they’re in South Korea— if they marry, it’ll have to be somewhere else officially, and if they were to be honest, it’ll be _someday_. It’s hard to speak as if it’s finished, when their lives are not fully in their hands, but this is the final reassurance they both needed, Vernon thinks. To know that this is real and true and it’s a dream they both share. Something tangible and within reach.

He imagines how his conversation with his mother will go. She’ll be so happy, because she adores Seungkwan, and she knows how much Seungkwan makes him happy. Seokmin will cry— and maybe Chan, too, after a long speech. Jihoon and Jeonghan will absolutely give him a second version of their first shovel talk.

He thinks of what he said to the CEO, and thinks of what he’ll say now.

 _I’m going to marry him_ , he imagines saying to him, now taller and broader and smarter, but still just as in love. Still just as fearless. _I don’t need to ask you to give him to me. Every day we’ve chosen each other. I’m going to fulfill my promise._

“What are you thinking about?” Seungkwan asks, looking up at him, head tilting to side and eyes bright. _A lot of things_ , Vernon wants to say, _a lot of promises I intend to keep_.

“You,” he says simply, and dips down to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this brings even just a little bit of comfort and distraction to those who needs it. take care of yourselves. <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/oresthia)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/oresthia)   
>  [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/oresthia)


End file.
